Page 22 of The Fire We Make

The ache he’d been nursing for hours — hell, years — didn’t feel so heavy up there.

Though the voices, cars, and other street noises from the city below him created a chorus of chaos, he found himself more at peace.

Ace glanced her way once more before he finally spoke. “You should get down from there,” he said.

“You should stop talking to me,” she snapped in response, still not bothering to face him. “I’m not gonna jump.”

Ace was slightly taken aback by her tone. He wracked his brain for the last time someone had the balls to disrespect him but came up short. Her attitude didn’t anger him though, it made him take a step closer to get a better look.

He was afforded a full view of her illuminated by the moon and city lights. His eyes raked over her. A cloud of tight coils fell to the middle of her back, her skin a smooth dark brown with an ass that spread across the expanse of the concrete she sat on.

“Didn’t say you were. You should come down anyway though.”

She passed him a brief sidelong glance before huffing a sigh of acquiescence. Ace held out his hand to offer assistance but it remained empty as she swiftly turned and hopped down with the grace of a puma.

She bucked her eyes at him. “Happy?” she asked.

Their gazes collided and held for a moment. Her eyes, so dark and cloudy, met his stare without faulting. She didn’t shy away from Ace’s intense eye contact, making him tamp down a smile.

Many men couldn’t bring themselves to look into Ace’s eyes for long, let alone women.

Though his clothes and persona were clean cut and refined, his eyes told the true story. His stature and reputation already made people cower in his presence but it was what people saw in his hazel irises that made them wary of staying in his presence for too long.

Danger and fire that ignited a very fucking short fuse.

This woman didn’t shy away though. She held his gaze unwaveringly with a fire of her own and a depth that made her look just as dangerous. Her dark brown orbs held a cocktail of sorrow and rage that took his breath away.

Ace grinned. “Happy,” he confirmed.

She rolled her eyes then turned away from him again, snatching up the bottle to take another swig.

They stood in silence for a few moments but Ace had more to say. He had questions. Starting with what kind of life the woman had lived that put that look in her eyes.

“What’s got you hiding out on a rooftop at midnight?” he asked.

She sighed, like he was bothering her before she answered. “Oh just getting some fresh air,” she answered, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

Ace grinned in return. He liked her voice. It was country but smoothed out on the edges like she’d tried to sound more like what people considered sophisticated but her mouth wouldn’t quite cooperate.

The slight twang in her tone let him know she wasn’t native to New York, but he liked the way words sounded coming from her lips. Smooth, with a rasp that made every syllable from her mouth ooze with seduction that Ace was sure wasn’t intentional, but worked on him all the same.

“I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“I’m having a hard time giving a fuck.”

Ace’s lip quirked again. He was sure she wasn’t trying to be funny but he found her insolence amusing.

“Are you always this pleasant?” he asked, matching her sarcasm.

“Only with niggas that interrupt my solitude. You always this nosey?”

Ace shrugged. “Afraid it comes with the job.”

“What’s your job?”

“Tonight? Suicide watch.”

“I wasn’t gonna jump!” she exclaimed.